


evasion

by ineedsomethingmore (tellmewhatyousee)



Series: Kinktober 2020 [22]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Universe, Dubious Consent, Groping, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Please Don't Take This Seriously, Sexual Harassment, Warlord meeting, some other warlords are also there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmewhatyousee/pseuds/ineedsomethingmore
Summary: Doflamingo gets a little too friendly at the Warlord meetings.Prompt #27: groping.
Relationships: Crocodile/Donquixote Doflamingo
Series: Kinktober 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946662
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	evasion

**Author's Note:**

> does groping?? count as a kink?? idk man this was supposed to be 'public sex' but i feel like it didn't really fit that description

Crocodile avoided the Warlord meetings for a lot of reasons. For one, he wasn’t particularly interested in doing the Navy’s dirty work unless it also worked in his favor. Second, the other Warlords were absolutely insufferable, and he preferred to keep his distance from them.

Regardless of what he _preferred,_ it was vital to keep an eye on things for the moment. He didn’t need anyone talking behind his back, and he _definitely_ didn’t need the Navy getting word of his most recent escapades in Alabasta. So, for his own safety, he found himself sitting at that damn table again.

The attendance was better than last time— on the Warlord front, at least. Sengoku and Tsuru were the only marines in sight. Kuma was present, as always, a couple seats away from Sengoku. He had his arms crossed as he scanned the room. Several feet behind them, leaning against the wall, stood Hawkeye. He never sat down at those meetings, as far as Crocodile could tell; he always wondered if it was some form of protection, or just because Hawkeye didn’t want to put that massive fucking sword down.

Finally, in the seat _directly beside_ Crocodile sat Doflamingo. Usually, he would sit his flat ass down in the middle of the table, and while Crocodile didn’t appreciate the view, it was very much preferable to _this._ There were nearly three times as many chairs as people in that room, and Doflamingo decided to sit mere inches away from a man who hated him. 

Crocodile didn’t move, though. That would be a sign of weakness.

“Heya, Croco,” Doflamingo greeted, his ridiculous pink coat brushing against Crocodile’s shoulder while he stretched his arms over his head. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Crocodile only grunted in response. Doflamingo didn’t show up to many meetings himself, but it was never a pleasant experience when he did. The last time they’d had a full conversation also happened to be the last time Crocodile found himself in Doflamingo’s bed. A series of poor decisions had landed him there for a third and _final_ time— still, no matter how much Crocodile pushed him away, Doflamingo seemed hellbent on acting like they were on good terms.

“Four out of seven? That’s better than usual,” Sengoku said as he looked around the room. Not once had Crocodile seen all seven Warlords in the same place, and he could understand why attendance hadn’t been stellar. Alliance or not, they were still pirates, and pirates rarely liked being ordered around.

Regardless, he tried his best to listen as Sengoku prattled on about the absent Warlords.

That became a difficult task very quickly, as Crocodile felt a familiar pair of eyes on him— even through those hideous pink shades, it was obvious. Doflamingo had a certain aura about him that made him intimidating in his presence alone. Still, as someone who had seen him in _quite_ a vulnerable state on more than one occasion (three, actually), Crocodile mostly just found it annoying. He turned his head only to give Doflamingo his most uninterested look before he directed his attention back to the conversation.

Kuma was talking then, something about Jinbe— wasn’t he in prison? Crocodile didn’t concern himself with the other Warlords’ matters, and unless they were talking about replacing him, he didn’t care. He still had to wait it out, though, because leaving in the middle of a meeting wouldn’t be a good look.

Something brushed his leg, and he looked down to see Doflamingo’s hand resting on his thigh.

Absolutely, under no circumstances was that okay.

Crocodile lifted his head to shoot him a glare, but Doflamingo wasn’t even looking at him— his focus was set solely on the marines across the table. Crocodile tried to be subtle when he smacked Doflamingo’s hand, but it only resulted in a tighter grip on his thigh. Doflamingo’s smile grew wider as he kept staring forward, nodding along as if he was actually listening.

Violence against a fellow Warlord was frowned upon— the whole program _was_ based onan alliance, after all— but at that moment, Crocodile was seriously considering strangling the man beside him. (Sure, he’d probably lose that fight if it came down to it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try.) Regardless, he kept his cool, because they were in the middle of a meeting, and he didn’t want to cause a scene.

Crocodile rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward and trying his damndest to catch up on what the others were talking about. If Doflamingo wanted to be a nuisance, there wasn’t much he could do about it until after the meeting was over. But just because the bastard used these meetings as a chance to get under Crocodile’s skin didn’t mean Crocodile had to play along.

Of course, it wasn’t long before Doflamingo made his next move, and slid his hand further inward to grope Crocodile through his pants.

Crocodile nearly bit through his cigar, but covered up most of his reaction with a well-placed cough. That earned him a glance from Hawkeye, who quickly lost interest and kept speaking to Sengoku instead. Crocodile was thankful for that— especially once Doflamingo started rubbing his palm against the front of his pants, and the friction was enough to make his body start responding on its own.

One look at Doflamingo showed a wide grin that Crocodile would quite like to slap right off his face, but he knew that was a bad idea. If they started fighting, he didn’t want to make the first obvious move. That would make it look like it was _his_ fault. Plus, despite everything, Doflamingo’s unwelcome touches didn’t feel _bad—_ especially when his fingers got involved and started tracing the outline of Crocodile’s erection against his thigh.

The whole time, the asshole still wouldn’t _look_ at him, his gaze focused intently on whoever was talking. With no chance of paying attention to the meeting, all Crocodile could do was sit there and take it.

After a few more minutes of slow stroking, Crocodile had almost accepted his fate. Doflamingo would have to stop _eventually,_ after all. The meeting couldn’t go on forever. And maybe, just maybe, some sick part of Crocodile’s brain was considering taking him up on the offer and finishing the job somewhere more private. If Doflamingo kept acting like an ass at these meetings regardless, what was the harm in another good fuck?

Then, Doflamingo’s hand shifted, and Crocodile glanced down to see him pulling at the button on his pants. When he looked at Doflamingo’s face again, he could just barely see one of his eyes behind his glasses, staring down at his crotch with a look that made Crocodile squirm. He absolutely hated it.

Once his pants were undone, he felt Doflamingo’s hand on the bare skin of his lower stomach before it slid down under the waistband of his underwear. The moment those fingers reached his dick, Crocodile did the only thing his irritated, horny brain could think of.

He turned himself into sand.

He covered the chair beneath him, some spilling off the edges into a pile on the floor. Doflamingo still managed to keep his damn hand buried in the pile, and Crocodile could _feel_ it, but at least he wasn’t being fondled in front of an audience anymore. The conversation came to a halt, and while he didn’t have the best vantage point to see everyone else in the room, he heard Sengoku addressing him.

“Is there a problem, Crocodile?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Doflamingo purred in response, combing his fingers through the sand. “He just gets a little shy, is all.”

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this tumblr post](https://youngreinhardt.tumblr.com/post/116435039100/what-if-when-crocodile-is-absolutely-1000000) that i think about a lot
> 
> i wrote this back in early september as the start of our "crocodile turns to sand when he's done with mingo's shit" fics and have been very excited to share it. anther prime example of this is [croc-sock by Bajillian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845291) which still makes me cry.


End file.
